Castle of Nightmares
by superhackaninja5
Summary: AU."He died as a human and was reborn as a God"The Atlantean god of Fate, to be exact. But things in his past were somehow changed. And now, to keep his entire world from ending, Ash must save a fallen angel from damnation. Enter Castiel and the Winchesters. Possibly another mass x-over.
1. Prologue

Title:Castle of Nightmares

Author:superhackaninja5

Rating:M

Summary:AU. A new darkness dawns. The Atlantean god of Fate is on Earth. But not for long:in order to right the wrongs of his past, he must venture into the realm of the shadows and save a fallen angel from his well-deserved punishment. What he doesn't know is that this realm tests everyone-including the ones who aren't even supposed to be there.

Warnings:language, dark themes, gore, possibly slash(cuz I'm obsessed with slash), character death(s) and...that's all I can think of for now.

Disclaimer:Standard disclaimer applies-I own nothing. But if I did, I would marry Acheron because he is amazing. AMAZING I tell you, amazing.

This came to me randomly today so lemme know what you think. I'm currently stuck with Broken Strings again so if anyone has any advice, it would be greatly appreciated.

* * *

Prologue:Show Me How It Ends

When you fall from Heaven, where do you go?To Earth?

No.

You end up somewhere much darker and much, much more twisted than Earth-a place that even the most depraved of demons would ever set foot.

The Castle of Nightmares.

What is the Castle, you ask?

Some say it is a real life version of Tartarus; the prison in the pit of the underworld that is reserved for the worst souls of the world.

Some say it is like purgatory, the ultimate punishment for those who sin and disobey Heaven.

And some say it is simply nothingness;an empty, hollow void where you spend eternity alone with nothing but yourself and your regrets.

None of these is the truth.

The Castle is your worst fears come to life-and it is a place you should hope to never enter, even in your dreams.

Unfortunately, that is actually what Acheron Parethenopaeus is about to do.

* * *

Yeah, short, but I'm tired. So thoughts?Ideas?R&R!


	2. Chapter 1

Title:Castle of Nightmares

Author:superhackaninja5

Rating:M

Warnings:see chapter one

Disclaimer:Standard disclaimer applies. Here comes Supernatural!Unfortunately, I don't own that either! Sucks, but I love Castiel. My LOVE!

I like this chapter, but I think the next one is my favourite.

* * *

Chapter 1:The Gate of Sinners

At the precipice of the Earth, there is a gate. It is fashioned out of a supernatural iron and interwoven with the sins of man-and other beings to keep out the untainted.

The gate is called the gate of Sinners;it protects the innocent from what lies beyond.

A figure cloaked entirely in black from head to foot with its face covered by the dark cowl and hood attached to the cloak, lurks outside the gate, purposefully unseen by all.

He watches the gate for a single reason:to prevent any from opening it and unleashing the evil within.

For ages, the duty of watching the Gate has been his and so far, the Gate has remained unbreached.

Until now.

* * *

"_The ultimate sin in Heaven has always been to disobey. But even worse than that is causing yourself to fall by doing the one thing that can never be atoned for;smiting the innocent,"_

* * *

~FLASHBACK~

_The human male lay, broken and bleeding, sprawled across the floor of the dank, smoke-filled alley._

_A man with coarse black hair and tawny skin, clad in a light brown trenchcoat, stood over him, an almost maniacal gleam in his inhuman blue eyes._

"_Castiel,"_

_The live man turned as the distinct sound of wings flapping was followed by that familiar female voice._

_Standing in front of him was a female he, unfortunately, recognized;Anna, the female angel and his former superior._

_In her human vessel, she was a pale redhead with long, cherry-coloured hair, a pair of wide, deceptively innocent brown eyes and a freckled face that did not look happy._

"_I suppose I should be honoured,"Castiel drawled wryly, wiping his bloodied hands off on his coat, "You came in person,"_

_Anna didn't smile._

"_You've committed the worst crime against Heaven, Cas. You have officially been relegated to fallen angel status-and as your superior, it falls to me to send you to your exile,"she stated bluntly, her mechanical tone belayed by the obvious sadness in her doe-brown orbs._

_Her now-fallen subordinate raked her with a challenging sneer and spread his arms wide._

"_Go on, then. Give me your best shot,"_

_The redhead sighed with regret. "I wish it didn't have to be this way,"she whispered to herself before raising her right hand._

_A pale, iridescent light filled the dark alley and the air was suddenly rent with white noise that shattered every window within a two-mile radius._

_It enveloped Castiel and dragged him inside its core, swallowing him whole in a matter of seconds._

_He didn't even scream._

"_I am sorry, my friend, but you made the wrong choices,"Anna said softly as her black coat flapped dramatically around her legs._

"_It is done,"she declared smoothly._

_When the light faded, the alley was empty._

_~END FLASHBACK~_

* * *

Waves.

That's what Acheron heard as he was slowly roused out of his slumber by the almost too innocent silence.

_Why am I hearing waves?Where the hell am I?_the Atlantean wondered as his eyelids slid open to blinding sunlight.

When his sight finally adjusted, both his questions were answered as he took in familiar surroundings;he was Neratiti, the island of his Chthonian friend Savitar.

Speak of the Devil...

"Oh good-you're finally awake. I was afraid I'd have to tell your mother you died on us again,"the elder male's snarky voice broke into his reverie, his tone sounding utterly unconcerned.

Acheron shook his head, swivelling his head around to face his friend.

"Glad to hear how much you care, Savitar,"he responded dryly, raising a thin eyebrow smoothly, "So why am I here exactly?"

A frown wrinkled Savitar's tan forehead and that alone was enough to fill Ash with trepidation.

"I really shouldn't be telling you anything at all,"the Chthonian muttered darkly, his bright eyes giving away nothing, "But I guess I've fucked the rules enough that they no longer matter. And you at least deserve a warning,"

All sorts of alarms started going off in Acheron's head at those words. If Savitar was willing to interfere with the future, something was definitely very, very wrong.

Savitar inhaled deeply before elaborating.

"Something's happened,"

"Something's always happening, Sav. You didn't have to bring me all the way out here to tell me that,"Acheron shot back dully, trying to be flip.

The latter didn't smile."I mean, something has happened to change your past. And that, in turn, is going to damn near destroy your present,"

The Atlantean blinked.

"What changed?"he questioned tensely, rising to his full height of nearly seven feet, brushing sand off of his leather pants.

"Well for one, you never decided to help the Dark-hunters adapt to their new lives,"Savitar explained swiftly, "You cut off all contact with Artemis-and Nick's fate changed as well-you and he haven't met yet,"

Acheron bit his lip uneasily. Those were some pretty big changes;they impacted more than just him-so incidentally, he would have to find a way to put things back to the way they were.

As if reading his mind-which he probably did-Savitar added in a rather anticlimactic matter, "The only way you;re going to be able to put things right is by doing the impossible,"

"Nothing is impossible,"Acheron disagreed firmly, "So come one, what do I have to do to change my past back to the tragedy it was?"

Savitar sighed.

"Your funeral, _Apostolos_,"he surrendered offhandedly, "You're going to have to enter the Castle of Nightmares and save the fallen angel of Thursday from damnation,"

"And how do I enter this 'Castle of Nightmares'?"Acheron asked, "And how will I know which fallen angel to save?"

"You've met him before, so you'll know. As for how you'll get in, you have to go through the gate of Sinners-which is guarded by one of your Dark-Hunters,"

"Which one?"Acheron quipped, frowning.

The Chthonian made an ugly face.

"Kyrian Hunter-guarding the Gate is now his exile,"

* * *

And that is the end of chapter 1. Lemme know what you think.


	3. Chapter 2

Title:Castle of Nightmares

Author:superhackaninja5

Rating:M

Summary:see chapter one

Warnings:see chapter one

Disclaimer:standard disclaimer applies. I own nothing but the idea of the Castle of Nightmares. I wish I owned Acheron, Castiel and Nick, though. Cause they are EPIC.

My favourite chapter so far!And a random note:a good song to listen to during this chapter would be Nightmare by Avenged Sevenfold. I just thought I'd point that out.

* * *

Chapter 2:My Nightmare

~FLASHBACK~

_He woke up to find himself in a room so dark that, for a brief moment he thought that he'd been killed. But he almost immediately dismissed that thought as foolishness;the angels didn't kill their fallen brethren. They were far too righteous for that._

_The fallen angel of Thursday rose to his feet slowly, brushing off the folds of his ratty, stained brown trenchcoat as he surveyed his surroundings warily._

_Upon doing so, he discovered the reason why the room was so dark;there were no windows or lights and the candles stationed in the center of the room were unlit._

_With what was left of his powers, though, Castiel was able to discern certain things through the gloom;a mural of skulls adorned the obsidian stone walls and propped up against it were empty ebony shelves._

_Beneath his feet, the floor matched the walls in colour, only it was blank and emitted a palpable coldness that invaded every pore of the fallen angel's body._

_Involuntarily, he shivered._

_Along with the frigid temperature, there was an underlying air of death and pain;agony the likes of which only the supernatural could detect._

_That was what truly troubled him the most._

"_So, the angel of Thursday has fallen,"_

_The candles flickered to life when that cold, sibilant voice broke the silence and a tall male stepped into the orange glow. He looked like any ordinary businessman or accountant-except for the gleaming spiked black armour and red cloak that covered his broad form from the neck down._

_Castiel's crystal eyes narrowed._

"_Do I know you?"he questioned suspiciously, crossing his arms over his white-clad chest._

_His companion grinned crookedly._

"_You should,"he stated cryptically, bright eyes flashing, "I am the child of the first to fall,"He paused before adding, "_Uncle,_"_

_Castiel's gaze darkened._

"_Akantheus,"he growled in recognition._

_The other inclined his light head._

"_Castiel,"he greeted his fellow fallen coolly, "So nice to see you again. I, however, don't answer to that name anymore,"_

"_Right, I've heard of that new moniker you've fashioned for yourself. What was it again?Prick, or something?"Castiel sneered mockingly, upper lip curling._

"_Those who want to live call me **Thorn**-and they do so in a reverent tone,"Lucifer's son corrected, sounding as if he were barely containing a snarl. He raked the blacknette with a scathing look, "You would do well to remember that,"_

"_Fine,_ Thorn_,"Castiel surrendered, pronouncing his brethren's title with a slight inflection that the blonde didn't need to translate, "Care to tell me exactly where we are?"_

_Thorn's frigid green eyes flashed red for an instant so brief Castiel swore he imagined it. "Call it a nightmare;the Castle of Nightmares, to be precise," His lips twisted, "Welcome to your own personal Hell,"_

END FLASHBACK

* * *

"Well, aren't you a sorry sight, General,"

The keeper of the Gate turned at the sound of that familiar thickly accented baritone and found himself facing someone he never thought he'd see again, let alone here, of all places.

Acheron Parthenopaeus.

"You,"he spat with more venom than he would ever loose on anyone besides the man standing so calmly before him now.

"Me,"the Atlantean reiterated flatly, apparently unperturbed by his former friend's obvious animosity, "I see Savitar was right as always;you _have _been exiled," He shook his head ruefully, "Such a waste,"

Kyrian fumed.

"I was only exiled because I went to seed shortly after _you _dumped me, you bastard,"he scowled witheringly, black eyes alight with a malicious gleam.

Acheron didn't even flinch. "Whatever happened to you has nothing to do with me;you should take responsibility for your own actions, Hunter,"he chastised bluntly, "I dumped you because I never saw you as anything more than a friend. Why we ever got together in the first place escapes me,"

"We were together becau-"Kyrian started to retort, but Acheron held up a hand and his vocal cords seized up, effectively halting whatever he had to say.

"And that, at any rate, is irrelevant,"the elder ex-Dark-hunter declared matter-of-factly, "I'm not here to discuss the past with you, Kyrian. I need to get through the Gate-and you're going to tell me how to do so,"

"Why in the name of all the cursed gods would I do such a thing?"Kyrian quipped scathingly once Acheron returned his voice to him, folding his arms.

The Atlantean smiled-and for some reason, that smile terrified Kyrian more than all the demons of the Nether Realm.

"Because if you don't, then your exile here is going to look like a walk in the park compared to the punishment I'll have in mind for you,"he threatened lowly and there was more danger in the silkiness of his tone than in the most potent of his powers.

The blonde had to force himself not to gulp.

"Fair enough,"he conceded with a shrug of feigned indifference. Swallowing his fury, he reluctantly began to explain how to bypass the gate of Sinners; "Opening the Gate requires a blood payment;or, in simpler terms, your blood needs to be spread over the seal in the center,"

Acheron cocked an eyebrow disbelievingly.

"|Is that all?"he said in a bored tone, pulling a 3-inch stiletto blade out of his right boot. Taking a step toward the iron gate, he used the knife to slash open his left palm before pressing it to the aforementioned seal.

When he removed his hand, the seal was glowing a violent blood-red, revealing a horned skull and crossed swords with keyholes where the eyes of the skull should have been.

"Key,"Acheron surmised, holding out his hand to his companion, showing that his skin had already re-knitted itself over the wound he had just opened.

Kyrian untied the key from around his neck and handed it to his former lover, shooting him a look of ill-concealed disgust out of the corner of his eye.

Unconcerned by his companion's less-than-friendly feelings toward him, the taller inserted the key into the seal and turned it about a quarter to the right.

There was the sound of latches clicking and the iron gate swung inward, though no one had visibly opened it.

"If you have any brains whatsoever, you will tell no one that I'm here,"Acheron warned coldly, tossing the key to Kyrian, who caught it one-handed.

The exiled Dark-Hunter rolled his eyes acidly.

"Yes, my lord and tormentor,"he raised a gloved hand in a mock military salute, his glower completely obvious, even under his black hood.

Acheron flashed him a wry smile before crossing over the Gate's threshold and disappearing through the Castle's large double doors.

* * *

The Gate of Sinners lead Acheron directly into the Castle's throne room, where he came face-to-face with the last person he'd expected to find there.

Nick.

But this was definitely not the Nick he had known in his previous life.

And it wasn't just his appearance that was different, either;his entire demeanour had also drastically changed into a much darker one.

While the previous Nick he'd known had been strong, it was less than nothing compared to the man he was looking at right now.

Or maybe he should say the _Malachai_ he was looking at now.

Sitting atop a stone dais, astride a literal throne of shadows with his legs extended in front of him and crossed at the ankles, the air around this Nick practically crackled with raw, undiluted _power_.

Of course, the changes in his appearance only added to his menacing aura;his once bright blue eyes were now a endless, smoky black, giving Acheron the impression of staring into a swirling abyss.

His shaggy brown hair now came down past his chin, and, in its seemingly deliberately untidy state, stopped just short of brushing his long, ebony lashes.

A silver hoop glinted near the corner of his bottom lip, matching the one through the lobe of his left ear and both sharply contrasting with the dark colours of his clothes.

He wore a black biker jacket buttoned over his lean chest with the sleeves pushed up past his elbows, revealing muscular, bronzed forearms covered with a multitude of dilapidated, spiky black symbols;faded jeans that clung to his waist and toned legs in an almost obscene way sat below his narrow hips, disappearing into his grey steel-toed boots, which had dark stains and scuff marks all over them.

Over his hands were a pair of denim fingerless gloves;though, judging by the fraying material, they most likely hadn't started out fingerless. Then there was the biggest surprise of all-balanced between his index and middle fingers was a lit cigarette with wisps of grey smoke trailing out of the glowing tip.

Apparently oblivious to Acheron's intensely probing stare, Nick took a long drag from the white stick in his fingers before breaking the resonate silence; "And what brings the _Apostolos_, the final fate, to my humble abode?"

Acheron blinked.

"You know me?"he questioned shrewdly, silver eyes narrowing slightly.

The brunette smirked, showing slightly serrated incisors that gave him an almost Daimon-like appearance. "I know what you are, Acheron Parthenopaeus,"He pronounced Acheron's name the way it was meant to b; "Ack-uh-ron", instead of simply calling him "Asheron" like the other Nick had done.

His eyes flashed red for a split-second before he continued in a low, velvet-like tone that reminded the Atlantean all too much of a snake's hiss, "And I know you are not meant to be here;so what is it that you want?"

Acheron bit his lower lip, slightly unnerved by the changes in the man who he had once called his best friend.

"I have business here. That is all you need to know,"the greenette responded cagily, unwilling to say too much since he didn't really know _this _Nick.

But the latter had other ideas;faster than Ash could blink, he blurred and reappeared behind Acheron, the smoke billowing out of his slightly parted lips and ghosting over the elder's ear.

"No, I don't think it is, actually,"he contradicted in a voice of almost glacial calm, "Because you see, the Castle of Nightmares is the Malachai's domain-and here, in my realm, I have the power to overcome even the likes of you. So if you intend to make it out of here alive, you 're going to have to do a lot better than that,"

Involuntarily, Acheron felt a shudder work its way through his body at the inhumanly detached manner in which those words had been delivered. And his hackles only rose further when he felt Nick's hot breath rushing almost sinuously past his ear.

Inhaling deeply in an attempt to steady his nerves, he paused before elaborating in as composed a voice as he could muster; "My past has been meddled with. And I was told that in order to put it right, I would have to save a fallen angel from damnation,"

When Nick finally appeared in front of him again, he had to force himself not to sigh in relief. Besides, the expression on the Malachai's face was not one he liked.

Nick's lips curved in a slightly bestial smile-one that never would have adorned his features before. "Quite a daunting task, even for one such as you. Then again,"he stopped, raking an almost lascivious look over Acheorn's tall, slim form, "Maybe you _will_ have a chance at surviving,"

The Atlantean frowned, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Hn, I don't want to spoil the surprise,"the brunette poked at his lip ring with the tip of his tongue, dark voids gleaming eerily, "Carry on. Until we meet again, _Apostolos_,"

Nick brushed fluidly past him, walking out of the room without another word;Ash could only stare at his retreating back as the steel double doors slammed shut behind him.

* * *

Fangs flashed in the moonlight as the blonde Daimon lunged for him, aiming for his throat.

"Oh come on, I've fought vamps who were scarier than you,"the hunter snorted disdainfully, ducking the fangs and slashing at his opponent's middle with a silver sword.

That was probably when the Daimon started to panic.

A second Daimon attacked from behind, jumping on Dean's back and sinking his incisors into the hunter's leather-clad shoulder.

"No, you didn't,"Dean snarled, slamming his head back into the creature's brow, dislodging it so it fell to the ground at his feet and whirling around to stab it through the heart.

It disintegrated into dust, causing the other to growl."You just made a fatal mistake, Winchester,"it hissed lowly, a deadly gleam in his bright eyes.

The air around them began to ripple and a large cylinder, greatly resembling a black hole appeared out of nowhere.

The Daimon grabbed Dean by the collar of his leather jacket and hauled him up toward the bolthole appearing out of thin air.

"Enjoy Hell,"it said with a cruel grin before hurling him through.

* * *

Yeah, short.

Eh, I still liked this chapter the far, anyways.

Anyway, R&R PLOX!


	4. Chapter 3

Title:Castle of Nightmares

Author:superhackaninja5

Rating:M

Summary:see chapter one

Warnings:see chapter one

Disclaimer:Standard disclaimer applies. I don't own anything except the plot and the whole idea of the Castle.

"_Once you enter the Castle of Nightmares, there is no escape. For those who are meant to be there, not even death can save you from your own personal Hell,"_

* * *

Chapter 3:Into the Abyss

~FLASHBACK~

_Sam was falling._

_Screams were reverberating through his ears as he fell rapidly through the Gate and into a raging inferno._

_Or at least, that had been what he was expecting._

_But what he got instead was much, much worse;the memory of his mother, burning on the ceiling of his nursery when he was only a child, replaying over and over again before his eyes._

_Then suddenly, there was the sound of snapping-and it stopped._

_And standing in front of him was a boy unlike any other he had ever met._

_This boy was younger than him, maybe about 16 or 17, but the malevolence in his swirling black eyes gave the impression of someone much older._

_He had shaggy dark brown hair that fell messily just below his chin with bangs that stopped just short of completely covering his eyes and smooth, flawless bronzed skin that somehow conversely looked as though it never saw the sun._

_Contrasting sharply with his attire was the fact that he was sitting atop a pale, skeletal horse that was even taller than the Winchester. Its face was ghostly white and eyeless, which caused Sam to wonder how on Earth it was able to see._

_The boy was the one to speak first._

"_Well, it's been a long time since I last had a human in my domain. I wonder what it is you did to deserve ending up here,"he mused and the utter lack of emotion in his silky voice made the hairs on the back of Sam's neck stand on end._

_Trying in vain to keep his voice steady, Sam raised an eyebrow and questioned carefully, "And where is ''here'', exactly?"_

_His companion's upper lip curled._

"_Your kind refer to it as ''Purgatory'',"he stated simply, "But its true name is the Castle of Nightmares,"_

_Sam was momentarily stunned speechless._

_He swallowed warily. "I'm in Purgatory?"he repeated shakily, unable to keep the uneasy tremor out of his voice._

"_Unfortunately for you, yes,"the younger inclined his head in an affirmative, obsidian pools utterly unsympathetic._

_There was silence for several moments while Sam contemplated that news._

"_So who are you, then?"the elder brunette asked curiously, moving subtly into a more defensive position._

_The latter chuckled coldly at that._

"_If I wanted to hurt you, Samuel Winchester, anything you could do would not be enough to stop me,"he said in an icily matter-of-fact tone._

"_How do you know my name?"the hunter snapped, eyes narrowing suspiciously._

"_I am the Malachai-and the ruler of this place. It's my business to know these things,"the black-eyed male told him smoothly, "Your name has been down since before you were born."_

"_What?"Sam choked in obvious horror, knuckles whitening as he clenched his hands into trembling fists._

_The Malachai locked gazes with him and he could clearly see the shadows dancing eerily in those dark coals and clinging to his lithe, toned form, telling Sam one thing:this man was not human._

"_Azazel marked you as his when he made that deal with your mother all those years ago. Now you are damned-damned to spend eternity trapped in the clutches of your most horrifying dreams,"_

_Those were the last words that Sam heard before his vision was consumed by fire and his ears were bombarded with the agonized, tortured screams of all of the people he had seen die in his twenty-four years as a hunter._

_~END FLASHBACK~_

* * *

"I never thought I'd see the day when a Hunter ended up here, of all places,"

Dean stirred at the sound of those dire words, hazel eyes fluttering open t o complete and utter blackness.

Well, _almost _complete and utter blackness.

Candles surrounded the stone walls of the curved, prison-esque room he was in, but they emitted only a faint light, not heat. The air inside the room was as cold as the grave.

There was a black-haired male across him from him, leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his broad chest and one ankle tucked behind the other;despite his relaxed, nonchalant posture, though, this man looked as if he had seen far better days.

His obviously once tan face was pale, gaunt and framed by coarse, disheveled black hair. The electric-blue eyes were dull and empty of life and his clothes hadn't fared much better, either.

The light brown trenchcoat he wore was faded and torn, the white dress shirt underneath had several crimson stains on it, his tie was undone and scuffed and his black pants and shoes were stained and battered.

"You know what I am?"Dean quipped in a guarded tone, getting slowly to his feet just in case the other decided to attack.

The latter nodded gravely.

"I used to watch your kind fight the monsters on Earth. But I was of another mind;humans _are _the monsters. It's what landed me in this accursed place,"

Dean arched a light eyebrow. "What is this place, anyways?"he asked with ill-concealed apprehension, scrutinizing the dimly lit room critically.

The other uncrossed his arms briefly to sweep them to the side and in front of him.

"This is a place meant for beasts and of punishment. Only the most depraved of souls are sent here on purpose;the Castle of Nightmares. You know it as Purgatory,"he explained in a flat, emotionless tone, light blue orbs flickering over Dean's finely-boned face.

"I was captured by a Daimon and thrown in here against my will-I'm not here on purpose,"the hunter said truthfully.

"Well, then, I'm afraid you are still trapped here with the rest of us-because once you're in, there is no way out,"

It took a moment for Dean to digest that. He was trapped;and not just anywhere-he was trapped in freakin purgatory.

"So if only the most depraved of souls are sent here on purpose, then what does that make you?"he enquired slowly, eyeing the shorter male with a new sense of foreboding.

The blacknette's lips quirked slightly.

Then what sounded oddly like a clap of thunder reverberated suddenly throughout the room and the candle flames roared, throwing their surroundings into sharp relief. And showing two large, black-feathered wings extending out of both sides of the shorter male's slender form.

"I am Castiel-the angel of Thursday,"he introduced himself lifelessly;he fell silent for a brief moment before adding thoughtfully, "Though I suppose I am now the _fallen _angel of Thursday."

Dean's mind reeled. He was talking to a fallen angel? Even in his world, that seemed extremely far-fetched.

"Yeah, and I'm Wayne Newton,"he snorted disbelievingly, "Come on, seriously, what are you?"

Castiel didn't even bat an eyelid at Dean's blatant disrespect.

"I don't blame you for not believing me. After all, I hardly resemble my former glory looking like this,"he stated ruefully, "But I am a fallen angel nevertheless-and you, most likely, have no business being here. I would like to know your name."

Dean stared blankly at him for a full minute before relenting and answering an offhand tone, "Dean. It's Dean."

"Well, Dean, I suggest you make the most of things from here on out. Your stay here might well turn out to be shorter than mine since you actually have the option of death,"Castiel advised him in an utterly fatalistic tone that contradicted the severity of his words..

"Fantastic,"Dean commented dryly, rolling his hazel eyes in a deceptively bored manner. His lips twitched slightly. "So, short of dying, I'm trapped here for all eternity?"

"Indeed,"Castiel affirmed in a mechanical tone.

* * *

"_Eleven thousand years ago, a god was born._

_Cursed into the body of a human, Acheron spent a lifetime of shame. But the strongest steel is forged from the fires of Hell..._

_Acheron's human death unleashed an unspeakable horror that almost destroyed the earth. Then, brought back against his will, he became the sole defender of mankind._

_Only it was never that simple._

_For centuries, Acheron has fought for our survival and hidden a past that he'd do anything to keep concealed._

_Now that that past has changed, he'll have to face down some of the darkest beings to put it right._

* * *

His memories of the original past were fading.

Acheron could quite literally feel his memories slipping away and being replaced with scenes he knew to be false.

"The Castle does that to you,"

A figure almost as tall as himself stepped into the faint glow cast by the melting candles stationed in the walls, looking rather formidable in his mahogany cloak and obsidian armour.

The Atlantean frowned. He recognized that voice...didn't he?

"Acheron,"the blonde uttered his name with a slight inflection that he didn't think he really wanted to translate; "We knew you'd come calling sooner or later,"

"Did you?"Acheron responded mildly, doing his best to mask how shaken he really was, "And who is ''we'', might I ask?"

"You can ask-doesn't necessarily mean I'll answer, though;and since I doubt your memories are all that clear at the moment, you can call me Thorn,"

"Thorn,"the blacknette- for the moment- repeated slowly, blinking, "I don't suppose you could point me in the direction of the fallen angel of Thursday?"

"I could,"Thorn said, "The million-dollar question is whether I will. The boss wants me to, but I'd like to know what I get out of it;from him or you, it doesn't matter which,"

Acheron raised an eyebrow.

"What do you want?" he asked in as composed a tone as he could manage under the circumstances,

The corners of Thorn's mouth twitched slightly in amusement.

"Another excellent question;what do I want?"he pretended to think about it for a few minutes just to keep the other in suspense, tapping his chin with his index finger.

"All right, I'll make you a relatively painless deal' I'll tell you where to find your angel if you tell me why you're so set on changing your past back to the way it was, when, from what I've heard, it was the Earth equivalent of Hell,"

The Atlantean's frown deepened.

"Is that all?"he said, scepticism furrowing his brow.

It seemed like such a simple, innocuous question, but the truth was, Ash didn't have an answer, except for the patented ''messing with history isn't right''-and somehow, he didn't think that was going to cut it this time.

"I'm waiting, _Apostolos_,"Thorn tapped his booted foot impatiently, pronouncing his title in what sounded oddly like a sneer.

Acheron shrugged helplessly. "I...can't answer that,"he replied flatly, spreading his palms in a gesture of surrender.

"Well then, I'm afraid I can't help you, Atlantean,"the Anti-Christ said with false resignation, "But I wish you luck all the same."

He turned on his heel and left, leaving Acheron alone in the dark corridor.

* * *

Sigh this story is lagging. I had so much inspiration for it in the beginning but now zilch. Oh well. R&R?


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